Kingmaker

by Eric Zawadzki

CHAPTER 51

  “Tirud, she’s gone,” Butu called.

  Blay came into the room, instead. “Well?”

  Butu’s mind raced, trying to dream up a believable deception. “I can lead you there, but we’ll need Lujo.” I can sneak away while they’re asleep.

  “We’ll wake him.” Blay sounded almost eager.

  “Let him sleep. The Akdren won’t come tonight.”

  Blay shook his head. “We can’t know that.”

  “She won’t lead them to us! I already told you…” Water from Blay’s finger silenced him.

  “Philquek isn’t an idiot,” Blay said, rubbing his goattee. “He at least suspects her reason for coming down here. The search party is here for Pisor even more than it’s here for Amber. They might have seen her leave this crypt.”

  That, at least, made sense. It also means that she could be in danger for betraying her clan. Butu pushed the thought aside.

  “We’ll wake Lujo, and then we’ll retrieve Pisor,” Blay concluded in a reasonable tone.

  Butu tried to think of an equally good reason not to, but nothing came to him right away.

  Blay’s smile told him the corporal had seen through his ruse. “Whatever that Akdren girl may think, you will not presume to be kingmaker.”

  “Whatever you say, corp,” Butu said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Let’s go wake Lujo.”

  Blay looked around the entry chamber as they left. “Where’s Tirud? It’s his watch.”

  “Here, sir.” Tirud stepped through one of the other entrances, tightening his belt. “Just took a short rest break while I could.”

  Blay relaxed. “As you were, then. Butu, with me.”

  Lujo woke at a whisper from Blay and without disturbing anyone else’s sleep. The dim light hid Butu’s disappointment at this.

  “Lead on,” Blay whispered to him.

  Butu briefly considered creating a din. Maybe a loud “yes, sir” would wake them. Or perhaps he could trip and fall on Retus or Phedam. He wanted the whole squad there, even if it meant one of them caught him in the act of seizing Pisor. That would put Blay even more on his guard, though.

  Instead, Butu simply nodded and walked carefully toward the nursery. Blay and Lujo took in the scene with a glance — the broken golems, the stone cribs, the sleeping infants. Neither completely hid his horror and revulsion. Butu considered it a comfort. The nursery still made him feel slightly ill. He glanced at the circle of grisly marbles at the center of the room.

  Mnemon should have sealed it at the heart of the rock where no one would ever find it.

  “I feel something,” Lujo announced in a groggy voice. “I can’t pinpoint it, though.”

  “Butu?” Blay prompted.

  “One of the cribs,” Butu said. “She didn’t say which one.”

  “Shanubu!” Lujo breathed. “There’s dozens of them.” He didn’t sound like he relished the prospect of dirtying his hands with the dusty remains of so many Urgarun infants.

  Not that I blame him.

  “He couldn’t have done it without disturbing the body,” Blay reasoned. “One of them is probably a stone copy. We should be able to tell the difference. I’ll look over here. Butu…”

  “I’ve got these,” Butu said in an almost cheerful voice, trotting over to the row of cribs nearest the center of the room.

  “Right. And Lujo, take that row over there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They walked around the nursery, examining each infant statue in turn. Lujo disturbed one by accident. It crumbled before his eyes. After a moment of stunned horror, he continued the grim search.

  Butu crept closer and closer to the circle of marbles, stepping over the broken golems as he pretended to check each infant in its crib. The other two were nearly to the far side of the nursery and had their backs to him.

  Just a few more.

  “Wait,” Lujo said, turning slowly. “It’s behind us.”

  Shanubu!

  Butu surged forward even as Blay turned around.

  “Butu, halt!” Blay commanded even as Butu’s arm dove deep into the pile of head-shaped marbles.

  Lujo stood frozen in place, watching, but Blay ran forward, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword. Butu dug deeper, searching for Pisor’s hilt. His fingers grabbed something sharp, instead. He yelped as blindness seized him as surely as it had that night on the obstacle course.

  Butu wanted to jerk his arm out of the pile of marbles, but instead he gripped the blade of Pisor gingerly and pulled it free. He blinked in the gloom, feeling wet drops fall from his fingertips and onto his pantleg. The cuts didn’t close right away, or even appear to be trying to close.

  It didn’t even leave me a small talent like Blay’s. All that practice with Lujo and Nolen and all the punishment from the other sordenu, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Well, nothing except a sword that has caused a war and might make a tyrant.

  As his eyes adjusted, Butu saw the tiny streams of blood running from his fingers and down the blade of Pisor before dripping onto the thousands of marbles carved to look like infant heads.

  Blay appeared next to him, saw the cuts and frowned. “That was stupid.” The corporal’s hand was no longer on his sword. “Let me see.” He sounded genuinely concerned.

  Butu backed away from Blay, holding the Sword of Kings like a miraman talisman. Pisor was exactly as the legends had described — a blade without decoration, a hilt with no pommel. It was a sword so crude Butu could have made one just like it with a few minutes of chanting and considered it a botched job.

  Or I could’ve if I still had my magic.

  “He touched it,” Lujo murmured, eyes wide. “That means he’s kingmaker.”

  “Not if he gives it to another child, no,” Blay said. “You can use magic, too.”

  A little eagerness flashed across Lujo’s face, and Butu’s heart sank.

  Lujo would enjoy being kingmaker, and that’s dangerous. Maybe he could grow into it, but he might try to make the world into one of his stories. A king could do that, and he’d probably have to if that’s what his kingmaker wanted.

  “If he touches Pisor, he’ll lose his magic,” Butu warned them. “We won’t get out of here unless he can open a tunnel for us again.”

  Blay didn’t look convinced.

  “It’s true!” Butu insisted. “I’m as blind as Tirud, right now.”

  “Give Pisor to Lujo, Butu. No more tricks.”

  Lujo’s eagerness had turned doubtful. “He might be right, corporal. The legends say Pisor’s touch steals away a child’s magic.”

  Blay puffed out a breath. “Our orders are to keep the Akdren from making a king. As sordenu, we all have a duty to do that.”

  “Are you hiding any other orders from us?” Tirud asked from the entrance to the nursery.

  Jani and Phedam tailed him. Phedam’s eyes widened as he spotted Butu with Pisor. Jani looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept at all.

  Anger flashed across Blay’s face at the barb, but he contained it. “Not this time.” He turned to face the trio. “Aren’t you still on watch, Tirud?”

  Jani and Phedam looked surprised and glanced at Tirud.

  “Yes, but Retus is there, now,” Tirud said. His expression became grave. “Matters have become more complicated. A squad of Akdren are heading this way. I think they spotted our bridge.”

  “How long do we have?” Blay asked, looking severe. The others’ faces echoed his.

  Tirud shrugged. “Retus’s sling might give them pause. Not long, though.”

  Even if Lujo started his tunnel right now, we’d never get out of their reach in time.

  Blay took a deep breath, closed his eyes and held out a hand. “Butu, I need you to give me Pisor.”